


Tap to Record

by mozzarellastyx



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Canon Compliant, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Slight Smut, Solo Artist Zayn, basically they miss each other, imessaging, is that a tag ppl search idk, just a little drabble from an idea i had yesterday while working out lol, liam and zayn never actually see each other in this just heads up, sex mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-15 10:52:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4604025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mozzarellastyx/pseuds/mozzarellastyx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam and Zayn are very fond of the new 'send audio' feature.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tap to Record

**Author's Note:**

> hello again! this is short and sweet but i actually kind of like it so i hope you do too. this is set somewhere in the near future, where one direction is taking a break to record their new album and zayn's frequenting the states the do the same. it's implied that liam and zayn share a flat in london, which acts as their home base. enjoy!

_Tap and hold to record and send audio._

Zayn’s thumb hovers over the tiny microphone symbol for a moment before pressing down.

“Hey Li. Whatcha doin’?”

He watches as the audio slides up to the string of messages, line of blue at the top creeping to the right until the message has sent. The screen is unmoving as Zayn stares, attempting to will the little ‘delivered’ to ‘kept’ with just his mind.

It doesn't work, of course, and Zayn lets out a rattled sigh, deflating into the plush bed. The hotel room is stuffily silent around him, not even the muffled pounding of footsteps on the adjacent floor to keep him company. He reaches for the remote on the bedside table, desperate for some means of distraction.

He's flipped through about twenty channels before his phone vibrates on his thigh. He lunges for it, eager fingers sliding left and tapping his passcode (2908). Up pops the string of messages Zayn had been staring at before he had locked him phone in frustration. The tiny ‘delivered’ has been replaced with ‘kept’, and Zayn's smiling at that before he can even listen to the message Liam responded with.

“Just woke up. Planning on grabbing a quick nosh with Lou. What about you? It's late in LA, yeah?”

Liam’s crackly recording fills up the still air in Zayn's suite and warms Zayn’s chest. It's bittersweet, hearing his voice. It helps ease away the ache of loneliness a bit, but it also strengthens the want of Liam next to him, breath ruffling Zayn's hair as he sleeps. 

He plays it again, studying each dip and inflection of Liam's groggy morning voice. He's still getting over a bugger of a cold, Liam, but at least he sounds a little less stuffed up than he did on the phone earlier in the day. He wishes he was there, smearing VapoRub into the hairs on Liam's chest and kissing away his coughs.

Another grey message pops up while Zayn's mind drifts, bringing him back to his hotel bed. This time it's text.

**Hello?**

Zayn realizes that it's been four minutes since he listened to Liam’s message and has yet to send a response.

“I didn't realize the time. Tell Louis hi from me, will ya?”

The message is kept in a timelier manner than the previous one, and Zayn watches the three dots bounce in the corner of the screen as he awaits Liam's response.

“Of course. You should go to bed, babe. Sound knackered.”

Zayn listens to this one three times, heart beating just a little bit warmer each time Liam’s voice scratches over the word ‘babe’. It's tender, and Zayn's becoming more and more fond of the pet names he hated back in the day. Back before Liam used them on him.

“I suppose I should.”

Liam responds.

“You alright?”

He sounds a bit worried, and Zayn realizes that maybe he let a little too much of his loneliness slip into his voice. That wasn't his intention, of course. He never means to worry Liam. He replies quickly.

“M’fine, just tired.”

He amends his message with the rest of the truth.

“I miss you.”

He doesn't even wait for the message to fully send before he gets up, padding sluggishly over to the bathroom to brush his teeth. The tile is cold, foreign under his toes and he longs for the plush rugs that cover the marble in their bathroom, keeping their feet from freezing completely in the bitter winter. It's never that cold in LA, of course, but the thermostat won't budge from its chilly 69° and Zayn, well. Zayn misses home.

When he slides back into bed, flicking the lamp off as he does, there's a new message waiting for him to listen to. He turns the volume up a click and presses play.

“Miss you too, Z. Only five more days, though. We can do it.”

There's Mr. Positivity, saving Zayn from the grey cloud that threatens him every day he's away from home. He keeps replaying the message until we can do it is on a loop in his head.

Another message appears.

“Might have to FaceTime when you wake up.”

Zayn bites at his bottom lip, tapping the microphone before he can stop himself.

“Why not now?”

He's almost dreading Liam’s inevitable list of reasons why that's a bad idea, but the thought of hearing his voice again is outweighing the feeling.

“You really need sleep, Zayn. Plus I'm meeting Louis in a few. But I'll set aside some time today to call, alright?”

Zayn sighs, defeated, but agrees.

“Promise?”

The response is immediate.

“Promise. Now get some rest, you menace.”

Zayn grins, tongue caught under his teeth as he shakes his head lightly, hair rustling against his pillow.

“Fine.” He groans this part like it's putting him out, even though he really is quite knackered. “Night, Leeyum. Love you.”

“Good night, Zayn. I love you too.”

He plays the message until it lulls him to sleep.

~*~

Zayn’s in the back of a sleek black car, one headphone bud wedged in his ear, head resting on the window. It's a bit dreary outside, rain smudging the glass that Zayn's cheek is pressed against. The windows are so tinted that he can barely see through them, though, so maybe that's adding to the gloomy atmosphere.

His phone vibrates on his leg where it's been funneling J. Cole into his ear. It's a message from Liam, he notices. It's quickly unlocked.

Zayn’s glad he's got his headphones in because it’s an audio message. He likes this new iMessage feature; it combines the convenience of texting with the intimacy and comfort of hearing someone’s voice over the phone. Audio messages litter the string of back and forths between Liam and Zayn, a very frequently used feature. He presses play on the one he's just received.

“When are you coming home?”

Liam’s voice sounds whiny, the last syllable drawn out to add emphasis. Zayn suppresses a chuckle.

The chuckle dies in his throat as another message appears. Not an audio, this time, but a picture.

Liam's shirtless in it, camera angled so at the top of the screen Zayn can see Liam’s pout and at the bottom his hand grabbing at the outline of his hard cock through his joggers, expanse of tan skin covering the rest of the screen. Zayn's eyes go wide when he sees it, dick twitching in his own trousers. Now Liam's prior tone makes a lot more sense.

 **I'll be home in 20 min** , Zayn responds in a text. He adds **Prick.** just so Liam knows he is not amused by this little game. Aroused, yes, but not amused.

Liam replies immediately, and his eagerness is not exactly helping the stiffy forming in Zayn's pants.

“I need you now.” His voice continued to whine, heavenly when layered over J. Cole’s explicit vocals. “I've been hard all afternoon.”

Zayn swallows, fingers gripping his phone tightly so they can't inch down and palm the ever-growing bulge in his jeans. What a fucking tease. He knows it, too, which just makes the whole thing worse. Or better. Zayn's having a hard time deciding.

**What the blowie this mornin not good enough 4 ya?**

Liam giggles in his response. “Was thinking ‘bout it. That's what got me hard.”

Zayn stifles a groan, throwing his head back against the leather seat. Liam's trying to kill him, he knows it.

“I don't know if I can hold out, Zayn. Might have to touch myself.”

Zayn furiously types out a response.

**Don’t want ya to touch urself. Want to do it myself when I get home**

Liam reads the message but doesn't respond right away. Zayn waits impatiently, foot bouncing as he stares at his screen, eyes searching for movement. And, really, he should've known what was coming.

Another picture pops up, this time with the head of Liam’s cock peeking out from underneath the waistband of his red briefs. His abs are flexed and pulling against his tanned skin, and this time his teeth are digging into his plush bottom lip, turning it a cherry red. Zayn groans audibly, really unable to help himself.

Another message comes, and Zayn taps the play button hesitantly.

“What if I just open myself up a little for you, hmm? Save you some trouble?”

 _It's not trouble_ , Zayn wants to argue. He loves opening Liam up, making him unravel with just his fingers. But the idea of Liam doing it to himself is…tantalizing. He can just imagine it, Liam's fingers slick with lube, barely getting two in before he's moaning into a pillow. It's obscene, the image, but Zayn's itching for it to become a reality.

**Fine but ill need a pic 2 get me thru the rest of this ride**

He trusts Liam will get a good shot, even from such a weird angle. He's practiced in the art of selfie-taking, even when it's of his arsehole.

There's a few minutes of lag time in which Zayn stares out the window, willing his ill-timed hard on away. It stays, however, because all he can picture is what Liam's doing right now, prepping his fingers and slicking up his hole with the lube on the nightstand. Or maybe he's using the stuff they've hidden in the living room. Zayn can only imagine.

He's not prepared for another audio message so soon, so it's with shaky fingers that he presses play.

“I'm not- not as good at this as you.” His voice is breathy and, fuck, Zayn's cheek are heating up just at the sound. “It's hard to multitask.” There's a little chuckle at the end that reminds Zayn this is his goofy Liam, endearing and fucking hot somehow simultaneously.

**Show me how wet u are baby**

He allows Liam some time to snap the pictures, shifting slightly in his seat in a vain attempt to relieve some of the pressure in his trousers. It doesn't work, just makes his stiffy more noticeable, but there's no one else besides the driver in the vehicle so he doesn't bother to adjust.

Two images send at once, and Zayn's mouth goes dry at the sight of both. The first is really just a shot of Liam's dick, precome smearing on his stomach. It's fat and bumping against his tummy, and Zayn knows Liam must be abstaining from touching it which drives Zayn _insane_. Liam's tenacity and self-discipline when it comes to sex is one of the hottest things, in Zayn's opinion.

The second is the picture he had asked for before, a perfect shot of Liam's pert hole, slick with lube and red from being thumbed over. Liam's fingers are splayed out on his arse cheek in the picture as well, sticky with lube and digging into the flesh.

 **Ur fuckin killin me babe** , he manages to type out.

“How much longer?” Liam moans. “I need your cock, Z. Wanna ride the shit outta you.”

Zayn leans forward abruptly, tapping the driver on the shoulder. “About how much longer of a ride? I, uh, need a wee.”

The driver shrugs. “Five, ten minutes. You want me to stop somewhere?”

“No,” Zayn shakes his head, sitting back. “I can hold it.”

 **Five min Li** , he sends. **Then ur mine.**

The next audio is just obscene, pornographic moaning from deep in Liam's chest. Zayn can't stop playing it, thumb tapping over the play button to keep the seven second clip on loop. 

He really is so fucked.

~*~

Zayn's phone vibrates on the bedside table, buzzing on the slick wood. He's drifting into consciousness, face smashed into a fluffy white pillow. There's another vibration, and Zayn's brain slowly wakes from sleep and enters reality.

The hotel room is silent as he lays there, coming to grips with the world and the fact that he’s now, unfortunately, awake. He rolls over slightly, head pounding with the headache he just couldn't sleep off. Blinking at the ceiling, he contemplates staying there until one of his producers comes and gets him.

But his phone vibrates from a third time, and he figures he might check on it. It's probably his manager yelling at him to get up. Which he should do, seeing at the little alarm clock next to him reads 11:32.

But actually, to his pleasant surprise, all three texts are from Liam. He unlocks his phone eagerly, finding that there are three audio messages waiting for him to listen to.

“Hi Zaynie! 've got a joke for you I've just heard. Okay, ready?”

“So a sandwich walks into a bar. The barman says, ‘Sorry, we don't serve food here.’”

The last message is just Liam giggling for eight seconds, sounds of conversation in the background like he's around a group of people but still found the time to send Zayn audio messages. Zayn's grinning before he even realizes it, teeth biting at his bottom lip to keep himself from laughing along. It wasn't even a good joke, not even close, but hearing Liam so bubbly and amused always makes Zayn smile.

He wets his lips before tapping the tiny microphone icon.

"Did Harry tell you that joke?”

His voice is raw from a night of sleep after drinking. He watches the message send. Liam listens to it only a few seconds after.

It starts with a little laugh. “Maybe. Did you just wake up, babe?”

He listens to it twice before responding.

“Yeah. Had a long day yesterday.”

He swallows, trying to rid his voice of the gravelly sound. He lets out a sigh, deflating further into the pillow as he stares at the screen, waiting for a reply.

It comes after a blink.

“You don't have to make excuses, Z. I know you like to sleep in.”

Another comes.

“I miss your morning voice.”

Zayn snorts before replying. “You just miss my morning head.”

The next message comes in not Liam’s voice, but Harry’s.

“Not appropriate, Malik.”

Zayn snickers. Sometimes he forgets that their messages play for everyone to hear. Sometimes he forgets about everyone when he's with Liam.

Another message pops up before Zayn can respond. It's Liam again.

“Hey babe, I've got to go. Recording and the like, you know how it is. When are you expecting to be done in New York?”

Zayn checks his calendar app before responding.

“Should be done Tuesday. Why?”

He gnaws at his lip in anticipation of his response.

“What would you think about meeting me?”

It sounds like he's moving now, probably walking into the studio. Zayn hesitates.

“You know I don't like coming to LA when I'm not doing business.”

“I know,” Liam hurries in his response. “I'm not talking about LA. Somewhere in the middle, maybe? Chicago?”

Zayn grins.

“Sounds ace, babe. Can't wait.”

He can hear the smile in Liam's next audio.

“Wicked. I've really got to go, now, though. Love you. See you in Chicago!”

Zayn hides his smile in the fluffy white duvet.

“Love you too.”

~*~

Zayn wakes in a foreign bed, a hotel somewhere in the greater LA area. He barely remembers getting there. His head aches and he's got a nasty taste in his mouth. The room is decorated with dark, muted colors but there are slivers of light shining through the thick curtains.

He lets out a long exhale, rolling over in the plush bed. It feels too empty, too big for just one person. He sticks to one side, not even touching the left half of the bed. It's not his place; it's always Liam's place. And if he doesn't touch it, he can almost pretend that Liam's there, snoring softly next to him.

He reaches out blindly for his phone, desperate for a distraction from the loneliness that's seeping into his mind. His lock screen is filled with notifications, none of which he looks at. His thumbprint unlocks it, zooming into his home screen. He clicks open his messages as his first order of business.

There are messages from his manager, producer, the likes. Waliyha’s sent him something too, but all of these notifications are glazed over because he's got three messages from Liam that take priority.

He's delighted to see they're all audio messages. He clicks the first one eagerly.

“Hi babe. I know you're asleep n sommat, but ‘Adore You’ ‘s just come on and you know that song reminds me of you. Reminds me of that trip to Turks, ‘member? Anyway, I miss you. The flat’s pretty quiet. Loki misses you too. He told me.”

Zayn's smiling by the end, trying to swallow down the ache of tears in his throat. God, he misses Liam so much. This is the longest they've been separated for a while and Zayn's not handling it very well. Even hearing Liam's lovely rambling hurts. He just wants to be there to shut him up with kisses.

He listens to it again before moving onto the next one. It's ten seconds of Liam singing along with Miley, silky baritone floating through the speaker and straight to Zayn's heart (and, quite frankly, morning stiffy). He's not trying that hard to sound good, Zayn can tell, probably just lying on the couch or sommat. It's still beautiful, though; Liam could never sound bad. He wants to save it to iTunes so he can listen to the clip on repeat during the plane ride home (as if Liam isn't featured on five albums).

The last clip is more ramblings.

“If you can't tell, I'm rather bored. Don't have anything planned, really. I'd like to FaceTime, later, if you have some downtime. Need to see your face. I miss you. I love you and I miss you and I realize I'm rambling but you're not here to stop me. Anyway, I should probably go shower. Come home soon. I love you.”

Zayn listens to it about twenty times just for the three words at the end. Suddenly, the taste in his mouth isn't as bitter and his headache not as pounding.

“I love you too,” Zayn says to the empty room, blinking the tears out of his eyes as he gazes at Liam's grinning contact picture.

Forever.

**Author's Note:**

> find [me](http://craziamlove.tumblr.com) on tumblr!


End file.
